Things to look for in Mr Perfect
by mysterymoon
Summary: Hermione's father gives her a list of things she must look for in her The One. AU Dramione.
1. Introduction

_When I was young, my father said, "Son, I've got something to say." _

_And what he told me I'll never forget until my dying day. _

_He said, "Son, you'll be a bachelor boy And that's the way to stay. _

_Son, you'll be a bachelor boy until your dying day."_

I can almost taste my orange juice and smell the floral scent of my Mother's perfume whenever I hear this song. I can remember my thoughts at the time, a mere 8 year old girl, hair in two pigtails, missing front teeth, and an exuberant smile, waiting to get past all the traffic lights and get to class with Miss Andrews. I remember wondering what a Father's lesson to his daughter would be. I remember asking my Mum what a bachelor meant, and shocked that he wanted his son to be unmarried for the rest of his life. At that age, everyone was supposed to get married, no exceptions.

You see, I've always been inquisitive; my mind works on overdrive. I remember going home and asking my daddy what his lesson to me was. I remember him trying to change the topic in his confusion at my question, and distract me with promises for trips to the park. I remember pestering him, and even bursting into tears because I thought he didn't have any lesson for me because he didn't love me. Silly me.

He followed me to my room, where I'd dramatically flung myself on my bed, and asked me what was wrong. I remember hiccoughing and sobbing, and explaining to him, rather confusedly I'm sure, about the song I had heard, and my need for him to give me my learning lesson about love and its ways. I remember him laughing, and gathering me into a big hug. I remember the feeling of comfort I'd felt in that hug, and its what I feel to this day in each one of his hugs. I remember him asking me to stay his little girl for a while longer, and me reassuring him that I'd always be his little girl, certain that I could control that aspect of my life. I remember asking for my lesson again, and him making a deal to tell me all when I turned 16.

The years passed, and I forgot about the incident. But he didn't. On my sixteenth birthday, he came to me and spoke in a clear, but soft voice. "Hermione, you asked me to give you a lesson on finding love when you were 8. I didn't give it to you back then because I wanted you to remain my little girl for as long as I could. I am so proud of the young woman you've grown to be, and I couldn't be happier of all that you've managed to accomplish. So here it is, my lesson for you," he said, kissing my forehead lightly before handing me a piece of folded paper. I opened it, and saw that my dad had written a list of things I should try to find in the man I would be with. And not a single relationship have I had without following it.


	2. Lesson 1

_Trust your instincts. If he ever makes you feel unsafe, don't make excuses, just get up and leave. That's all there is to it. It's better to be safe than sorry._

Viktor was a great guy. The Quidditch star, good looking, accented English and mysterious-the perfect combination. I was ecstatic that he'd asked me to the Yule Ball, choosing me from amongst all the other girls. I'd gone an extra mile in making myself look good for the night, taking painstaking amounts of time to fix up my hair and do my makeup. I know I'm not the traditional, gorgeous girl. But any girl can become her, if she just tries enough.

So I went all out to get a pretty, but conservative, dress and Ginny helped me do my makeup. By the end of the session, I stood in front of the mirror and knew it was worth the time. I still felt shy, as I stepped into the ballroom, but Viktor instantly came up to me and escorted me to the ballroom, like the gentleman he was. I felt everyone's gaze at me, and it made me even more shy, and a little bit giddy. We entered the hall first, he being a Triwizard Competition participant, and me his date. As we waltzed, his hand kept roaming about my back, but I ignored it. It was my first real date, and first ball, and I was having too much fun to realize the seriousness of the happenings. He was a perfect gentleman later, though, going to bring me a drink, and getting me a seat to rest my feet on. Obviously, the night's fun ended early with me getting frustrated and upset with Ron's jealousy issues.

We did keep in contact though, writing to each other all throughout the year. His english wasn't very good, so he tried to mask that by writing less. He updated me about his schoolwork, and I used to tell him about Hogwarts. Somehow though, it never ventured further than that. I just didn't feel comfortable enough to share personal details with him, and I kept changing the subject if it ever came up in one of his letters.

Truthfully, I think I kept in touch with him only because it made Ron jealous. Yes, I was stupid enough to think I was in love with him, and me talking to other boys had seemed to make him realize, well, me.

Then I got caught up in helping Harry save the world, and lost all contact with Viktor. Never once during our wanderings did I think of him, and we only met again when I began working at St. Mungo's for my internship. He came in because of an arm injury, and his not being a major case, I was assigned to be his Healer. I was surprised to see him, and even more so when he asked me out for that evening. I hesitantly agreed, and he offered to make dinner at his flat in Muggle London.

When I reached the flat at the address he had given me, I immediately knew he'd meant it to be a more serious date than I had estimated. I looked completely out of place, my jeans, tank top and cardigan mismatched with the dim light setting he'd created.

He leaned in to kiss me, but I purposely-on-accident moved my face, so he caught only my cheek. He remained unfazed, and went into the kitchen to bring out a glass of white wine for me. We sat on the sofa, but he kept trying to get closer to my seat. I kept sliding away bit by bit, but he kept moving with me. Then he tried to kiss me again. It made me queasy, and I immediately shot up.

"I'm sorry, Viktor. This isn't going to work, I've got to go."

I bolted out, and apparated to my flat, pulling the wards back up.

Daddy's list never failed. Three months later, as you know, Viktor had been arrested for molesting a young muggle girl.

Then there's you. I remember being really reluctant about going out with you the first time. Firstly, there was the element of shock, that you were asking me out. Sure we'd become friendly at work, but we were still from different worlds. Secondly, the date with Viktor had been fresh in my mind, because if you remember, his trial had been going on even then, five years after the incident, given his star status. Thirdly, I wasn't sure of your intentions, given the rumors of your playboy-ish nature. I've never told you this, but I agreed to meet you at the restaurant out of intrigue.

Throughout the evening, I expected you to make an implication for your hopes for the progression of the evening. You made none. Given our history, I was supposed to feel uncomfortable. But I didn't. Not once. You engaged me in conversations about topics of mutual interest, being a perfect gentleman and even allowing me to order for myself. You escorted me back to my flat, and made no move for more. That's what allowed me to accept you.

You'd passed the first test quite easily, you see.


	3. Lesson 2

_Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you'll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can't change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn't just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he's out of it now, you're going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn't change that some people just don't fit. _

As you already know, Ron has been an important part of my life since the beginning of Hogwarts. I began to love him in fourth year. That year saw a lot of us back and forth between us. I think my love for him was fueled by the myth that says boys tease the girls they like best. That actually didn't apply to him. He saw me the same way he saw Harry. A friend. Nothing more.

Not going to lie, it broke my heart every time I saw him with another girl. It broke my heart to choose Harry over him, and to see him leave us without a second thought. I cried every night he wasn't there, and I stayed up in worry for his life.

Then the war happened, and in the chaos of it all, we kissed. We thought we were going to die. He called me his girlfriend in front of you, even though I hadn't really agreed to his non-existent proposal. But I was happy. It seemed like a goal that had finally been achieved. I got Ron to finally see me as a girl. Under an unspoken agreement, we started dating after the war. But things were different. He seemed to want to bask in the glory of being a war hero, I wanted to disappear from the limelight. He wanted crowds around him as he stepped out, I wanted oblivion. But we stuck together.

He had problems dealing with it all. He didn't have a job, he only lived away from his parents because I had managed to rent an apartment. He drank. A lot. His evenings usually consisted of sitting in a pub, surrounded by people listening to his stories of the war. I fought with him every night, and eventually got him to stop drinking. Everything seemed okay for a while after that.

I went to Australia that summer to go find my parents. Ron didn't offer, I didn't ask him to accompany me. When I came back with them, eager to introduce them to Ron, I found him in a drunken stupor in our apartment. Apparently, he'd been secretly still mourning Fred, and had begun drinking soon after I'd left. I quickly sent my shocked parents back home, after much reluctance on their part though. You know how they are concerning me.

When Ron finally awoke, he didn't even comprehend me sitting on the sofa in front of him. He just walked to the kitchen, and pulled out another bottle of beer from the fridge.

"Stop!"

"'Mione, you're home?"

"What is wrong with you?" I had screamed.

"What do you mean?"

"Stop drinking, Ron."

"Are you okay?"

"No, I am not. I brought my parents home today, and they saw you in this state. Do you know how embarrassed I was?"

"Of course you'd be embarrassed, I'm not Harry freaking Potter, am I? He's the only one man enough for you. Tell me, Hermione, how was it like being al-" he was cut off by my slap.

"Don't you dare pin this on me. I'm leaving now, when I come back you better have righted yourself and this place."

I didn't go back that whole week.

Then he turned up at my parents' doorstep.

"What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

I reluctantly let him in. My parents had been out for work.

"You didn't come home."

"I needed time alone."

"I'm sorry."

"Okay."

And then he kneeled down, and held up a navy velvet box.

"Ron, please, don-"

"Hermione, I know I've sort of mucked things up, but will you marry me?"

"Ron, I…not now, please understand. Your proposing doesn't make things all right. You hurt me that night, with your fords and the torture you've been putting yourself through. Please, I can't…"

He stood up and laughed menacingly. "Of course, what a fool I've been. You never wanted me anyway, did you? All the couple drama was just to get Harry jealous wasn't it?" He always had a tendency to blame my non-existent love for Harry in all our fights. And I had had enough.

"Get out!"

"Think about it a last time. No one will want you, Hermione. Only I know how to deal with you. Without me-"

"Out. Now."

I didn't see him for another two years. Everyone tried to make me understand, but the truth was what it was. We were completely different, and our love fell short of overcoming his insecurities.

Daddy's list was right. He married Lavender the year after; they were divorced within the next two months.

Of course, you were different. You used to hate me, and I you. You had every right to be insecure about our relationship given the completely rude articles written about us.

But you never were.

That's something I admire about you greatly. You don't let anything affect you, you're confident in yourself and you've been confident about us since the beginning.

Do you remember, on our eighth date, we'd gone to London to go to a club? This was a major reason I took you there. I wanted you to get drunk, so you'd open up to me about your feelings.

Do you remember, waking up the next day and seeing me in bed, and being completely confused about the previous night? Your words had taken me by surprise, and I knew undoubtedly that you really liked me, if not loved me at that point in time.

You told me everything about the horrors you'd seen, your fears in the war, the courage you had built up, your crush on me in school, using your connections to work with me and finally, you told me you wanted to be a better person because of me.

I knew my time with you wasn't a passing fancy by that point, and I'd apparated you to my flat, where we just slept together for the first time.

I'd woken up that morning to see you sprawled on your stomach, one arm flung across me, the other under your pillow. Your mouth was slightly open, and I knew then, you'd passed the second test.


	4. Lesson 3

_How a man treats animals is a good indicator of how he treats children. If you see him raise a hand to a dog, pack your things into a little black bag. Same goes for waiters and hotel maids - if he's rude to those who are working for minimum wage, it says a lot about how he sees himself. Patience is rare and so important. If he's not forgiving to a dog, he's not good for your kids. _

I met Theo in my second year of internship at St Mungo's. It was his first, and I was assigned to be his partner on most of the cases that interns were allowed to handle. He seemed nice, sweet even, for a Slytherin. We were awkward around each other at first, though, neither making the move to build a friendship.

Then one day, three weeks after we'd begun working together, he slid in beside me on the bench in the cafe, and started talking about the latest case we'd been handed. That's how we became friends.

I'd heard all the nurses whisper about him every time we walked in the halls. He was good-looking after all. I know he heard them too, because he always had a smirk on his face. It should've seemed cocky, but I somehow found his confidence in himself amusing.

We'd never spoken at Hogwarts, neither to trade insults nor to have a conversation. I didn't know much about him, except for the fact that he was a pureblood and a Slytherin. That made talking to him easier; there was no history or bad blood between us.

Within six months of working together, he asked me out to dinner. I was comfortable enough around him to say yes.

The first date went great, he was a gentleman and didn't go beyond a soft kiss.

The second date put me a bit off. He threatened the manager of the restaurant because the food had arrived half an hour late. I was embarrassed, and the date ended quickly. Luckily, he didn't make a huge scene in front of everyone.

The following day, he asked me to lunch. I refused.

You see, just that morning I had been handed the file of a young girl suffering from a head injury caused by a fall. When we went in to check the girl, she was asleep. I moved forward to gently shake her, when he roughly tapped at her shoulder. She was obviously scared, and started crying because of the pain and lack of the presence of her family. I saw Theo roll his eyes, and move to check her wounds when I told him I'd do it instead. He nodded and waited for me to be done consoling the girl, and dressing her wounds, before pulling me out of the room.

"Thanks for doing that."

"Hmm." I couldn't say anymore.

I did decide to give him another chance once I had cooled off a bit, though.

He screwed up majorly that time.

We made plans for dinner, and he offered to come and pick me up from my flat. I was still getting ready when he rang the doorbell.

"Hi, come in. I'll be another five minutes."

"You have a cat?"

"Hmm, oh, yeah, that's Crookshanks."

"Hermione, I'm sorry, I don't like cats. Just go and get ready fast, yeah?"

He eyed Crooks as if he thought he was going to be murdered.

When I came back out, he was already standing near the door, waiting for us to leave. Crooks came up to me, wanting his usual head pat. Crooks, being Crooks, sniffed Theo's leg as if to ascertain he was right for me. Theo kicked him away.

Yes, kicked Crookshanks away.

I knew I couldn't be with him immediately, and sent him off his way. The next day, I even asked our Supervisor to have me partner with someone else.

And Merlin, am I glad I did.

Daddy's list warned me. Theo abandoned his own daughter, and her mother, three years later.

You, obviously, had Crooks wrapped around your fingers the moment he met you. I think he likes you just a bit more than he likes me. (The fishes and scratches might have something to do with it though.)

I've never seen you be anything but nice to the staff at the restaurants we go to.

Remember when you got the wrong dish that one time. You probably don't, it was such an uninteresting moment, and you ate the food with just a single comment and reassurances to the waiter who served us.

I didn't forget though.

I know how much you love your dog. I love that you rescued him. I love that you let me name him "Muffin".

And then there's your secret talks with Baby James. Don't think I haven't overheard them. I remember introducing you to Harry and Ginny five months into us dating. I remember you being hesitant to meet them. I remember Harry and you both making an attempt to be civil. I remember you being completely overwhelmed with meeting James a few weeks later. I know about each excuse you made just to be alone with him. I've heard a lot of them, but the one that stands out is the conversation you had with him the day of the War Memorial. You told him you thought you loved me.

It was the first time I'd heard it, and I cannot tell you how much restraint it took on my part to jump in and hug you because that was the moment I knew you'd passed the third test.


	5. Lesson 4

_If he puts money before you, he'll keep pushing you to the bottom of the pile until you become his last priority. It's one thing if he can't afford what you want, it's another if he has the cash but won't spring for a box of Chicken McNuggets. Money and love are arch enemies. 62% of divorces occur due to economic strain. Make sure keeping you is more important than his 401k._

Cormac McLaggen had been, well, into me since sixth year. I had been lost in my dreams of a future with Ron, and one without Voldemort at the time, of course. I even hexed him, once, to make sure Ron got selected Keeper, and don't you dare tell anyone.

All the girls liked him. At that age, for a lot of girls, good looks are the most important thing in a guy. So obviously, he had a huge fan following amongst them.

I was different though. I sensed him being more egoistic than loving.

I didn't want a celebrity with drop dead gorgeous eyes or anything, I wanted someone who would love me with all his heart.

By the time I reached 24, I'd begun to see everyone around me move on with their lives. They all had their families, they all were settled in life. No matter how independent I was, I did find myself yearning companionship, wanting that one-on-one time with someone. So when Cormac asked me to go out with him, I said yes.

As quickly as I had said yes, even more quickly I knew it was a mistake. We weren't meant to be.

He was just venturing out with his own business of Quidditch supplies, and was working hard to get everything right. He barely saw me, and when he did, he usually wound up falling asleep before even eating dinner.

I admired his attempts to make his own money despite his being born into a rich family, i really did. But I barely saw him the first month of us dating.

I did try to make it work though, although in hindsight, I knew it wasn't going anywhere. I thought he'd be fine once his shops opened.

He didn't.

He kept getting worse, his company was in loss, he had to sell one of the shops.

Then he gave up all together.

He threw himself into his family investments, and started recklessly creating and destroying properties.

He forgot my birthday. He forgot our six month anniversary. Nothing about us, nothing about me seemed important to him. Becoming successful, and triplicating his fortune were his only priorities.

I sympathized with him, but I couldn't put myself through it any longer. So I packed up my bags and left.

Daddy's list never failed. The McLaggen's were sued by debtors for over a million galleons.

You are rich too, and showed off to no extent at school. But you've never let business come in between us.

You make time for me, you make me feel loved.

You never let me pay for dinner. No matter how old-fashioned and chauvinistic that is, I can't deny that I like it for some weird reason. I think it's because it's somewhat like a reminder that you'll always take care of me.

Do you remember my 27th birthday? I was a bit off, because I knew from your appointment diary that you had a big meeting with one of your prospective clients that day.

Do you remember how happy I was that evening when you showed up at the surprise party? I knew the extent of your love for me then, and boy, am I glad I've never let you go.

And yes, you passed the fourth test that day.

Money can't buy happiness. It's something my teacher in first grade taught me in school. I think it should be modified to Nothing can _buy_ happiness. Only love can bring happiness.


	6. Lesson 5

_Make sure he has scars on the back of his hands, it's a good sign he has experience either fighting or making things - creation is an act of selflessness and bruised knuckles are a good sign he knows how to defend himself. You've got too much soul to be handled by someone who has never been passionate. If he's never thrown a punch, let him at least have tasted the insanity of bringing an idea into existence. Rough palms are better than soft ones, they have been salted by this earth and made into leather. Callouses are evidence he has lived, that he has broken skin and been in pain over and over and over again and still came back to the source of it. Don't marry him if he can't handle even a little blister._

Whatever he might have done, you can't deny that Cormac worked hard to at least try and achieve something. The guy I dated immediately after him, however, had no dream except to lounge in his Manor, and squander away his money for the rest of his life.

It was Adrian Pucey; you knew him from Hogwarts.

He didn't fight in the war, not from either side. Neither did his family. When I asked him why, he simply shrugged, and said that kind of thing wasn't his cup of tea. He said that his family did not want to get involved in something that would sully their name no matter what side they fought in. That should've set the warning bells.

But I was resilient. I didn't want to end any relation without giving it my full efforts.

So I did. I pulled him out of his Manor, and took him to the theatre, to see movies, for walks in the park. I convinced him to try and volunteer in the Orphans of the War charity.

He was reluctant, I was persistent.

So he gave in. He started working at the charity's offices. In no time, I heard that he had donated money of his own will too.

I was happy, he seemed happy. And everything was okay. Until that one in October evening.

We were in London, walking towards the restaurant because the weather was too nice to pass up a chance to be outside. Two masked men showed up, suddenly, and pulled out knives and ordered us to give them everything expensive we had on.

I was calm, and was pretending to empty my purse, when in actuality I was grabbing my wand. Adrian started shaking, though, and plead with them to leave us alone. I was disgusted with this behavior, from a so-called grown man. I stupefied the two , and apparated on the spot, leaving Adrian behind.

He came to my flat, that night, and asked me why I had left.

I told him I was appalled at his behavior.

He said that he had never been mugged before, and had been scared when it happened.

I pointed out that we had magic, and could hex them anytime, so there hadn't been any real reason to be scared. He repeated that he was scared, and had panicked.

I asked him what he would've done if I hadn't had my wand.

He just laughed, and said that we wouldn't have to know because I did.

It wasn't good enough an answer for me. I broke up with him that night.

Daddy's list never failed, of course. Adrian was shot in a mall hold-up in London gone wrong. He survived, but I dread to think what actually would have happened the night of the mugging had I not had my wand.

You are different, of course. You are every bit the son of a rich Pureblood. You don't have any scars that are visible to others.

But I've seen all your scars and marks. I've seen your physical scars, and the internal, more emotional ones too. You may not have realized it, but I've memorized each one of them, and I always try to pay attention to them.

Sometimes more discreetly, by tracing them when we're talking, or sometimes more visibly, laying kisses across them, letting you know indirectly that everything's going to be okay.

Do you remember when we went to the club in our eleventh month dating, and you punched that guy in the face for trying to grope me? I knew right then that you would always defend me, always stand by me.

Your punch got you to pass the fifth test, you see.

* * *

**A/N: Only two more to go. Thank you for reading :D**


	7. Lesson 6

_If he isnt deserve you. You are my little girl and you were born perfect. If he cans his loss. There is someone who thinks your flaws power his heart. Be strong. If he asks you to change, be like like rock of your birthstone, do not waver. You are wondrous just the way that you are._

I met Blaise Zabini at a bookstore. He had reached out for the same book as I had from the opposite side of the shelf, leading to a bit of a struggle between us, as it was the last copy and I really wanted to read it.

"Granger! Let it go."

"You let it go."

"I'm warning you, I am not past pulling it away from you."

"Neither am I."

In the end, you probably can guess who won. Me. I am very defiant when it comes to my books, you know.

He made a face, and left. I laughed, at my victory and at his petulance.

The next day, we ran into the Magical Menagerie, where I was picking up food for Crookshanks, and he was buying Owl treats.

He saw me, and made another face and left without picking up his change.

I collected it for him, and ran out to stop him.

"You left your money," I had panted out.

"I don't want it."

"Don't be silly, just take it. And look, if it's such a big deal to you, I'll owl you the book, okay?"

"There's no need for that."

I was hurt by his coldness by that point, and made to go back to the shop to buy what I had to.

"Wait, Granger. I, uh, I'm sorry," he said.

I just smiled at him in return.

He owled me and asked me out for coffee the next week. The coffee turned into lunch, which in turn lead to dinner, and before I knew it, we had been dating for two months. He was charming, and intellectual, and we started to get more serious day by day.

I took him to see my parent's, and Mum seemed to like him enough. Dad, however, pulled me aside and told me to be a little cautious because he had seemed to be slightly pompous to him. I had laughed at his words, and gave no serious thought to the situation. Blaise had been attentive and caring to my every need the past months, and had given me no reason to be distrustful of him.

Until he took me to meet his Mother.

He was nervous when I suggested it, and even more so when, upon my insistence, he had spoken to his Mother and fixed a meeting for us at tea-time.

From newspapers and magazines, I knew Adelina Scotti was a formidable woman. Her parents had passed away when she was 19, and she had begun to lead a promiscuous lifestyle soon after. She had amassed a massive fortune from the sudden deaths of her 14 husbands, and had 6 children all over the world. Blaise had been the son of Basilio Zabini, who had passed away not four months after the birth of his son. Adelina was always painted to be a scary woman in articles, and it was no wonder that Blaise was nervous about telling his pureblood mother about his muggle-born girlfriend.

So you see, I wasn't put off by his nervousness at all. He knew her personality best, and despite his anxiety, he hadn't blatantly refused my request.

No, I was put off by his request. Actually, requests.

He asked me to wear dress robes that he had bought-gaudy green with way too much skin showing through the elaborate neckline and back cut. But I agreed, considering he wanted me to fit into his Mother's surrounding as best as I could.

He had a professional come in and do my hair, as if to imply I wasn't capable of handling it on my own. I expressed my disapproval to him, but sat down and let the lady do her job.

Next, he put on a massive necklace, dripping with diamonds, around my neck. I felt like my head was going to snap because of the weight. As we stood together and looked into the mirror, I saw his finally satisfied look. I, on the other hand, felt like I was going to be sick. I knew what he was satisfied at having managed to do; he had transformed me into someone completely unlike me, and exactly like his mother, as if he was ashamed of who I really was.

My patience was on the verge of teetering, when he subtly tried to suggest that I tone down the intellectual talk and just remain acquiescent throughout the conversation. That's when I snapped. I more or less told him to shove his "meeting" up his arse, and left to go home after pulling off his necklace and throwing it at him.

He didn't even bother coming to try and apologize or explain. Well, as they say, good riddance.

Daddy's list saved me yet again. His wife was discovered missing less than three months into their marriage. It was a suspected abduction, and a black feather, similar to the one I had seen on Adelina's cloak, was found on the floor of their room. You remember the girl? She was two years behind us in Hogwarts, and was a mousy little thing. After her marriage, she had been transformed into a walking-talking mannequin.

You've always managed to bowl me over with your smile. But one thing I love even more are the looks you give me. They make me feel like I'm special, like I'm worth a great deal.

Even back in fourth year, I remember the mesmerized look you gave me at the Yule Ball. Of course, at that moment I had chalked it up to astonishment that a not-pureblood girl could look great too.

Do you remember when I first met your parents? You were nervous, but you assured me that no matter what, you'd choose me over anything in the world.

Do you remember when _you_ first met my_ parents_? My mom was almost as much in love with you as I was, I'm sure. And Daddy-he pulled me aside to tell me to cautious around you, and not to screw up our relation in anyway. He had been sure of you the moment he saw us together, you know.

You've given me jewelry over the years, but you never did it to hide me. That's what set you apart.

I have lost count of the number of times you've snuck up behind me during my mirror self-inspection times, and hugged me and whispered away all my insecurities.

I have lost count of the number of times you've told me I'm beautiful.

I don't know what I did to deserve you, but whatever it is, I'd do it a million times over, just to feel the joy of you passing my sixth test every time you've made me feel worth it.

* * *

(A/N: Only one last one to go. Thanks to all the readers, followers, favoriters and reviewers. You all make my day with your kind words. :D)


	8. Lesson 7

_And finally, date a boy who makes you happy, but marry him only if he makes you laugh deep-belly rumbles that hurt your ribs as they expand outwards. Date him when he sees that youre gross sobbing. The world is not a kind place. You will feel a lot of pain. Make sure you are with someone who makes it all bearable. Humor is an excellent gauge of intelligence. Life gets boring. Find someone who makes the banal interesting._

My second most serious relationship- the first being you, of course- was with Oliver Wood. We met at a Quidditch match Ginny had dragged me to. After the match, Ginny insisted on speaking with the former Gryffindor captain. Throughout their talk, he kept looking at me. Later, while Ginny was off talking to other players, Oliver slipped beside me, and pressed a little note into my hand discreetly, before turning and winking at me.

When I had opened the small piece of paper, I found it to be a request for a lunch date. I had no reason to decline the handsome guy, so I wrote to him, and accepted his offer.

Trust me when I say he was one of the very few who managed to get past two from the list.

He made me feel comfortable enough to speak about my small insecurities, he was open enough to talk about his past with me, he was well mannered, he loved Crookshanks and had even managed to get the Crook's stamp of approval.

He was an International Quidditch player, and was constantly required to travel for matches with his team, and practice sessions abroad. I too was on a high point in my career. But he didn't let a day go by without writing to me. It seemed like the first thing every morning was owl me. I too, found myself becoming one of those cliched movie characters, completely smitten with him and doing all sorts of romantic things like cooking for him and writing little love notes to him.

When we did meet, he insisted on just remaining cuddled up in front of his fireplace, in silence. It was something I felt odd doing at first, but I quickly began to get warm-pun intended- to the idea of emotional intimacy.

I was happy with him, something I hadn't felt with a guy in a long time. He had passed six out of seven tests.

But then of course, there was _the_ glitch. He didn't pass the seventh test.

Our days together had consisted of romance and happiness, there was no laughter. I attribute that in part to our busy work lives and also to his personality in general. He had been brought up to make a girl happy, not to make her lose her mind laughing. In fact, one time at the theatre, he had looked at me rather amusedly when he heard me snorting. You know, the one you claim to be pure me.

I tried to bring that aspect into our relationship, though. He laughed at my poor attempts to joke, rather pitifully might I add, but made no efforts to do so himself. He_ was_ a rather serious guy, after all.

I did let that slight glitch pass by. After all, I didn't think I would ever find someone who fit the list perfectly. And no, you may not smirk.

Then came the time I was crying after the unfortunate death of one of my charges. He was a 23 year old cancer patient, and had been in his terminal stage, leaving nothing I could do to save him. I had never had a patient die before, and the realization of the reality of the short span of life, and the unforeseeable events of future was breaking my heart. He had floo'd in, when he saw me sprawled on my sofa, snot and drool running all over the place. Instead of coming to comfort me, he went back home. I did appreciate him leaving me alone, but in hindsight, I am sure I would have preferred company, and some support at that.

We had agreed to be frank with each other, so the next week I brought up the topic and told him my thoughts. He understood, and we were okay after that.

Then a month later, on my birthday, he proposed. My parents, his parents, our friend's- all were hidden while he asked me in the middle of a beautiful park. When he was on his knee, looking at me expectantly, I wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, the irritating glitch flashed in front of my eyes; all the lulls, all the silences- which had seemed comfortable at the time but now seemed like another glitch- came back to me, and on the other, I wanted to say yes because I was afraid of losing him and never again finding someone so close to Mr. Perfect from my Dad's descriptions. In that moment, I knew I couldn't say yes. I didn't have the right motives to, and it wouldn't be fair to him either. I did love him, but I wasn't in love with him. Maybe it could have even been an infatuation with a seemingly perfect guy.

So I didn't say yes.

I didn't see him afterwards, and my apology letter returned unopened to me. Daddy said that he had even cried a little.

But in the end, it was what it was. Daddy's list had stopped me from making a mistake, yet again. Oliver did get married. Three times, and none of his marriages lasted for more than two years.

You were different, though. I can count the number of times we've had silences between us on one hand.

All our conversations have always been riveting. That is not to say that you blatantly accept and agree with everything I say. No, you put up a strong end for your own convictions. Which also doesn't mean that we fight; it's more of intellectual banter which keeps us both on our toes, and doesn't let there be awkwardness or silence between us.

Your charm has always been something I've loved about you. You have the innate sense of when I'm falling into a gloomy, dark place and you always know the right things to say to bring me back. Somehow, you've ingrained yourself so much into my life that I've begun to freely depend on you, and talking to you seems the most natural thing to me.

We may have our differences, even an occasional fight, but do remember, with each other, we can go through anything and still stand tall and strong.

I will never forget when we went to watch a re-showing of An Affair to Remember. We got kicked out, remember, because of all the noise we were making laughing at the sad parts? You had a running commentary going on about the film, and you'd turned me from a sobbing fool into a shaking mess, laughing and snorting all throughout.

You've passed the seventh, and final, test an infinite number of times- maybe even every single day we have been together.

That is why I said yes to you unhesitatingly when you finally asked me to marry you.

You know the saying, "Everyday may not me good, but there is something good in everyday." You are the good in my every day, and you make each day a little more special for me.

And that is what I love about you. Along with everything you _are_, are doing and want to do. You gave me back my illusion of the world as a fairytale, because with you, I become a princess, and you, my prince. Just like I imagined when I was a little girl-all good, and no evil in the world.

Daddy's list set some high standards for the man who was to love me, but I'm glad I found him, and I'm glad it is you, my love.

* * *

**(A/N: Finally, it's done. I had this idea based on a post on Tumblr, and this is my very _first multi-chaptered completed fic._ This is dedicated to every girl looking for her love. Let's hope we too find someone like Hermione found hers. :)**

**Regarding, who she's speaking to and why, here's two thing's I wanted to say:**

**1) I personally imagine it to be Draco, and she's speaking with him just before the birth of their first child and reassuring him of his insecurities of being like his Father and not being responsible and good enough with the child.**

**2) I have left it ambiguous though, so you can imagine it to be any guy you ship Hermione with, for the same reasons. **

**Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this fic-I am so happy with the response this little thing got. :D)**


End file.
